


the highway signs say we're close

by brookethenerd



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: Lukas taking care of a sad and drunk Philip





	

Lukas pushes through the front door, letting his backpack fall off his shoulders and onto the wood floor, not even stopping before turning on his heels and heading out to the barn. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair, letting out a long breath.   
He makes his way towards the worktable when he gets in, and finds it already occupied.  
Philip leans against it, one arm holding himself up, the other clutching a large and nearly empty bottle of vodka. He lifts it to his lips and takes a large swig, before setting it beside him with a grimace.  
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lukas asks, brows furrowing. Philip is still wearing the clothes from the night prior, and from the looks of it, he didn’t go home.   
“Do you feel it?” Philip asks, lifting his head and meeting Lukas’ eyes.  
“What?” Lukas asks, grabbing the vodka bottle from beside Philip, and frowning. Philip reaches for it, and Lukas turns it upside down, letting the remaining liquid fall into the hay. Philip pouts, and makes another grab for the bottle, though it’s now empty.   
“An ache. Here. This one.” Philip says, bringing his hand up to his chest, pressing his fingers against his shirt.  
“You’re drunk, Philip.”   
“Do you feel it? When you’re with me?”  
“Philip-“  
“It’s like a good pain. In your chest. Heart. Whatever. Do you?” Philip asks, hand dropping back to his side. His lips part, and he watches Lukas, waiting for an answer.   
“Let’s get you inside. Come on.” Lukas says. He takes a step towards Philip, and wraps an arm around his shoulder. The other boy leans into him, and takes a stumbling step. Lukas tightens his grip on him, and though Philip initially protests, he lets Lukas bring him into the house. He practically has to carry Philip up the stairs, and when he finally reaches his bedroom he sets him carefully on the bed. Philip swings his feet over the edge, and lets his head drop between his knees.   
“I dont-i don’t feel-“ Philip murmurs.   
Lukas lunges for his trashcan , and drops it in front of Philip barely a moment before he pukes. He hesitates a moment before sitting down beside Philip. He looks down at his hands, and reaches out, pushing the hair off Philip’s face. He holds it back as Philip spits into the can, eyes squeezed shut. When he’s done, he lifts his head, licking his lips.  
“If I were you,” Philip murmurs, “I wouldn’t kiss me right now.”   
Lukas doesn’t reply, pulling his sleeve over his hand and wiping Philip’s mouth.   
“I’m gonna get you water.” He says. Philip mumbles incoherently, and lays back on the bed, hands folded over his stomach. Lukas makes his way to the door, and turns back to look at Philip. Something inside of him aches when he does it; Philip looks comfortable and peaceful in his bed. He can’t help but like the way it looks. Philip, on top of his sheets, eyes closed, hair falling over his forehead.  
The only time he doesn’t feel ashamed for what he is-this thing he’s trying so hard to ignore-is when Philip is looking at him, or touching him, or kissing him. It’s moments like those that everything just goes away. It’s moments like those when even considering a future with Philip doesn’t scare him to his bones.   
He pads down the stairs, and brings a water bottle back up. Philip has pulled himself onto the bed, and is laying on his side, head pressed against Lukas’ pillow.  
He sits on the edge of the mattress, and when it dips with his weight, Philip’s eyes open. His lips curl up in the hint of a smile, and Lukas’ stomach rolls. He uncaps the bottle, and gestures for Philip to sit up. Philip props himself up on his elbow, and Lukas brings the bottle to his lips, tilting it back. Philip holds his gaze the entire time, and Lukas gets the feeling he knows what he’s thinking.   
He sets the bottle on the bedside table, and Philip lays back down, eyes on the ceiling. After another long pause, Lukas tugs Philip’s shoes off, and helps him out of his sweaty shirt. His eyes linger on Philip’s chest for a moment, before he tugs one of his own long sleeves over Philip’s head.   
The image of Philip in his bed hits him again, but instead of him sleeping peacefully, he sees him laying beneath him. His hands are on Lukas’ hips, and his breath is coming out in pants. Philip reaches up, and tugs Lukas against him. Philip’s skin is warm against his, and he tilts his chin up, mouth pressing against his. Philip takes Lukas’ lip between his teeth, and tugs.   
Lukas looks away, ashamed at the thought. He stands up, and is about to move away from the bed when a hand snakes out and grabs his wrist. He looks back, and finds Philip watching him again.  
“Don’t.” He says. The word bolts Lukas to the floor, and without another word he climbs over Philip, and lowers himself beside him. They both roll onto their sides facing each other, faces inches apart.  
Philip lets out a breath, and Lukas can smell the alcohol on his breath.   
“I shouldn’t have come.” He says softly.  
“Don’t be sorry.” Lukas says. He slides his hand across the space between them, and lets it rest on Philip’s cheek.  
He scoots closer, his knees knocking against Philip’s, their noses touching.  
“Your dad.” Philip says.  
“Poughkeepsie.” He says. Philip nods, eyes fluttering shut. Lukas tilts his chin up, and presses his lips to Philip’s gently, tenderly, carefully.   
He doesn’t push it any farther, though he wants to. He can still taste the vodka on Philip’s lips, and he knows that if he doesn’t stop it, they’ll go a lot farther than Lukas wants and farther than Philip is sober enough to choose. Instead, Lukas pulls back, and says, “Yes.”  
Philip’s brows pull together in confusion.  
“What?” He asks.  
He takes Philip’s hand and places it against his chest.   
“It hurts in my chest. Even when I’m with you-it hurts. It hurts.”  
“In a bad way?” Philip asks.  
Lukas shakes his head.  
Philip’s eyes flick around his face, and instead of kissing him again, he shifts closer, so close they’re almost kissing, but it’s different.   
Lukas reaches out and pulls Philip against him, so close that their stomachs press together.   
“Stay.” Lukas whispers.   
And Philip does.


End file.
